In the now...

By Karen Dums

Once upon a time I was a  young girl, young, not at all wild, not at all free.
Once upon a time I was a young girl, who longed all those things to be.
Now I am an old girl, the clock has ticked on by;
And what do you know? It happened, at last I can fly!
Why was I frightened those long years ago?
What held me back from being part of the flow?
Perhaps that was it, I danced a different tune.
Stepped to a different drummer, became "old" too soon.
Oddly enough I am happier this day 
Numbers don't matter, don't hold any sway.
I'll do what I do. I'll be what I am.
If others don't like it...well I won't give a damn.
I'll keep my own counsel. Keep my own ear.
Life's oh so much better living it "right here".

Odd it took me 50-plus years to begin living in the now. My late mother always suggested that I just let myself "be". I didn't understand her then. I understand her now. Beset by worry I held myself back from activities I enjoyed. Whatif, whatif, whatif!!! Let fear keep it's grip lest the world turn to ice ala Elsa in the movie "Frozen". Stayed stuck on the ground when the air was where I wanted to rise.

So I started late. At least I started. Self-exposure is not something I do well (out of the gutter please). Little glimpses are about all anyone is likely to get from me.

But cliche' aside (you know the one, life's a gift, that's why we call it the present) living in the present tense is not such a bad thing. One can get accustomed to letting the past go, looking forward to the future with something akin to hope, if not hope itself. Being spontaneous, spur of the moment. Fun. Even if we are the only ones who actually get the joke.

I'm not suggesting we cast aside all reason -- that would be pure chaos for me at least -- but flying by the seats of our pants once in a while can be a good thing. It takes us out of the rut. The box. The little corner we've painted ourselves into.

To hell with the paint, it can get smeared for all I care. I'm writing myself out of that corner at last. Pen in hand I'm going to give myself a shot by living completely in the now.
  

Open then close

By Karen Dums

We knock at the door of Christmas, hanging wreaths, decorating cookies, wrapping gifts. It's a whirlwind of activity for many. We can get tangled in our own tinsel, trip on the extensions cords running hither and yon, fall into the trap of too much.

Peace on Earth? Not in the checkout line at WalMart.

Good will to all? Not when three people want the last toy on the shelf. THE last toy of its kind. That's more "its every man for himself".

Wow.

For those of us who profess to be Christians there is the added aspect of the Advent season itself -- celebrating the birth of our Savior even as we await the time of His coming again. A foot in each of two separate worlds?

No wonder the season fills the most hardy souls amongst us with dread and probably fills psychiatric offices with patients new and old! We get caught up. Too caught up?

Isn't it more a time when we should be filled with joy? With wonder? With awe? Or can't we, at the very least, slow down, take time to reflect a bit? After all the window behind us is soon closing on another year while the window in front of us is opening to yet another.

As someone who loves all aspects of the written word, including writing itself, I always cast the new year in the role of a blank page. What will we write on it? What will be written on it for us? Its a piece of history, both personal and otherwise.

The bells of Christmas will hardly cease pealing when the bells ushering in a new year will begin chiming. Let's be awake for them. Let's be active participants on the next page of life.
What'cha think?  Let's dive through that open window head first.

Just the facts...

by Karen Dums

I've been working on a little non-fiction piece. It began as a poem and seems to be morphing into a series of essays. Written works will often do that. Take themselves on a path the writer never envisioned.

It's like this: I've lived in a small town nearly all my life. It's not a new idea that it seems to be in a state of decline, I've harbored that thought for a while. Now it wants to burst out onto the written page. I'm not sure about that. Not sure at all.

Writing fiction can be easy. We "make shit up" and no one gets hurt. When we're writing about the real hurt can happen. There can be fallout. We must be very careful.

So. Do I want to continue working on this piece?

The answer: an unequivocable yes.

Wish me luck.

Hard to say good-bye

By Karen Dums

Fellow Guild charter member Peg Zaemisch has taken a job that will take her away from the environs in which our writer's group exists. For five years she has been a voice of wit and wisdom, both at the writing table and aside from it.

I will miss her quiet speech.

I will miss her gentle humor.

I will miss her regaling us with a tale, anecdotal or pure fiction, that could make me roar with laughter or reduce me to near tears (I'm NOT an easy cryer).

I will miss her.

Then there's the pushier side of me: She's in the midst of penning a wonderful novel and I soooo want to be there to hear it complete. I sooooo want to be there when she receives word that an agent or publisher has picked it up. I soooo want to hear the joy in her voice when she gets the contract that is absolutely positively coming. I soooo want to be a part of her work in progress. It's been such a joy to watch and hear it unfold to an amazingly interesting point.

I will miss it, but not as much as her.

However.

Being unemployed is an unhappy circumstance. Thus this little voice inside of me keeps whispering "send her off with love,  with best wishes, with some semblance of joy".

She has obtained a job in the newspaper business, a business she has long been a part of.

She will reside closer to her beloved grandchildren.

Both those things make her happy.

It follows then that those things make me happy.

Loss of her weekly presence does not.

But...

"If you have other things in your life—family, friends, good productive day work—these can interact with your writing and the sum will be all the richer."
                                                                                         - David Brin

You are set to be rich indeed my friend. Good luck from your "uppity a/k/a third story" friends.

Hello November

By Karen Dums

Some may know and some may not know that November is National Novel Writing Month, for those of us in the "biz", NANO for short. But who wants to write an entire novel in just 30 days? It's sooo daunting. How can it be done? But wait...perhaps we need to do the math. Hmmm.

30 days. 50,000 words. By my calculations that's 1660 words a day. Doable? Let's investigate.

Say one can type 100 words a minute that's 6000 words in an hour. Wow.

Of course we must factor in thinking time. And perhaps we don't type but use the pen. And perhaps we won't be typing 100 words a minute even if we could still. Doable? Possible? Yes.

So do it.

Or not.

Do what some of us do. Set a goal.

I'm going to edit my most recent work.

I'm doing to rewrite that piece I abandoned long ago.

I'm going to read my novel aloud to check for cadence and flow.

I'm going to hit the books, find an agent, a publishing house, or maybe several, to submit to.
Ah but first I'd best tweak my query letter.

I'm going to fill up that space behind the blinking cursor.

There's more to writing than putting out as many words as you can in the shortest time possible. But it can be done.

Do it.

Or not.

Embrace it.

Here it comes.

Go...

words, words, words

by Anna Maria Hansen


Sometimes my words are not enough. Hollow, ringing, ostentatious, flippant, brassy. My paper becomes a snarl of scribbles, scratched-out lines, fragments, disconnected by blank spaces.

Fortunately,  my words are are not the only ones. When they are not enough, I find friends, mentors, guides, and inspirations in the writing of others who say what I cannot. Words surround me... a web... a wind... an embrace... a circle of words all around. When I'm not writing, I'm reading. I learn from it all; the bad, the good, the great.

It is my belief that all writers are other writers' guides. There is no such thing as a solitary writer. We are all affected by each other... that is how writing works. Find me a writer who doesn't read. More specifically, I have a hard time finding a writer who hasn't been moved to write by something they read. Endless circle. A pattern of writers making writers.

Seldom do writers realize the worth of their own words. Louisa May Alcott nearly burned Little Women. Joe Shuster (original Superman creator) did burn the first Superman story. Robert Lewis Stevenson never made more than 14 pounds off of Treasure Island, which is now sprinkled like salt over the face of the planet and is one of the best known stories ever told. Tolkien held onto the beautiful, majestic, intricately detailed Silmarillion until his death believing that somehow he would be able to make it better. And you know what? He probably could have. But millions of people have read it just the way it is and this it perfect.

So even when your words seem empty, continue. Even when you're not certain who will read them, continue. When you don't know if it is finished, continue.

For we are all just writers and readers in the end; the audience and the storyteller. And all of us, every one, loves a good story.

reader's regret...

By Karen Dums

Suddenly, or so it would seem, I've discovered authors I paid not one bit of attention to during all my reading life. My bad, since the two combined have given me more insight into my writing life than all the scribblings and scratchings I've been at for the past 40+ years. (note: I started VERY young)

The first is Ursula LeGuin. I've not touched her fiction. Fantasy of that sort is not truly my thing, unless of course the author's name is Tolkien or Lewis. A snob. I admit it. But her non-fiction A Wave in the Mind is absolutely, hilariously entertaining and enlightening. Seems all these years I've spent fretting over not fitting in were a sheer waste of time. Many of us have simply not been invented until just recently, if at all. What a relief it was for Ms. LeGuin to move out of the eternal "he" and into her own self at last. Apparently my "fit", as well as my relief, awaits.

The second author was not simply stumbled upon while browsing among the stacks, but recommended by a friend. Ann Patchett's Happy Marriage has little to do with the married life and everything to do with the writing life. Having fallen asleep while deep in this book I had a dream which the next morning became the new opening of the first chapter of my novel. Was she my muse? Perhaps. Or perhaps my mind was open enough to let an idea that had been clamoring in.

One idea Ms. Patchett reiterates in nearly every chapter is one that Third Story Writer's Guild members share. We must keep working. If we're not writing we're not honing our craft. We're not becoming the best writer's we can be. What's the point then? Our minds can be filled with ideas.  Good ideas. Bad ideas. Ugly ideas. Unless we get them down on paper or on the hard drive or flash drive of our computer if that's how we work, they are going nowhere.

How hard is it to pick up a pen? Or to sit down at a computer terminal? The answer would seem to be "easy" -- but in the real world it is not. For many of us it is hard. We are inundated with demands on our time. Real demands. Work. Family. Volunteerism. A to-do list that runs from here to eternity. The clock ticks eternally. Yet if a writer is what we would be, then write we must, or fail in our attempt at what we hope to attain.

Patchett makes a neat comparison that I found particularly intriguing. If we want to learn to play the cello (or any other musical instrument) we enter into it with the idea that it will take work and practice. While some may say that playing a musical instrument is simply regurgitating another's art I disagree. Playing, as singing, painting, drawing, crafting, sewing or any other art form is just that, an art form. Writing is no different. While it would be lovely to sit under a tree or on a beach or in whatever place we find lovely and wait for the lightning of inspiration to strike, that's not how it works. It works when we work.

All of us can't "quit our day jobs", nor perhaps should we. But if writing is to be a part of our lives it is up to us and no one else to make it so. Carve out even a few minutes each day. Who knows how far it will take you? Best of all, unlike me, you'll be left with no regret.


 

what's in a year...

by Karen Dums


The Third Story Writers Guild website and blog is celebrating its first anniversary. As stated in my "myriad musing" on the website, it's been a year of discoveries. Some pleasant. Some not so much.
But I look at it this way. We've had a great year as a group, and it is hoped, as individual writers.
One thing this writer has discovered? Having a presence in the virtual world is hard work -- time consuming and plain, flat out hard work. If a site is going to be good it needs to be kept up. Hope we're doing well in that department since the musings, the wramblings, the book recommendations, all come from within. There is no "passing the buck."

Not that it's all been pure drudgery, we've had a lot of fun in the past year too. Kourtney Heintz came to visit with us last year about this time. We'd all just met, yet now many of us are fast friends with this Connecticut native, hard-working, giving, wonderful woman, who will be back with us again in little more than a week. So willing to share insights and advice. Amazing.

Jerry Apps and his wife Ruth joined us for a program in October 2013. He spoke with our group in private, and gave a wonderful, well attended public presentation. We now count him as friend, giver of advice and insight. This man who has nearly single-handedly saved the "little histories" of rural life in Wisconsin is our friend! Amazing.

During the winter months we held write-ins. What a fun thing, to be able to stay in our beautiful public library after hours and just write. Unbelievable how much work gets done in a few hours when there is no phone, no television, no dishes in the sink to call one's name and become a distraction from concentrating on the written word.

Four of us made a trip up to Northland College in Ashland to hear an author speak. It was a great little road trip. Interesting to see "how other folks do it."

We did an open read at Chequamegon Canoe Club. We are always well received there, and we have an absolute blast every time.

June brought us the long-awaited gift of Michael Perry's presence. What a humble, sharing, down-to-earth, hard-working, multi-talented man! Again, amazing!

On a personal level some of us were "accepted," some of us "rejected." That is each individual's story to tell and I will not put it here, but we soldier on.

We are a little writing community. Please let us know what you think.

                   



                  

just do it

by Anna Maria Hansen

I've been struggling to write. More than I'd like to admit.

It feels like my initiative to put words on paper is sapped. Completely gone. It's been months since I've written a poem that I liked. Even longer for a short story. While I clicked open my unfinished, in-desperate-need-of-editing novel about once a week, I just re-read it and occasionally changed a sentence or two.

 

Last week, it got to the point where I began to question my ability to write. Wondering if it was really gone, and if I would get it back. For the third time that week, I had set aside time to write and was simply sitting at the computer, chin cupped in my hands. Blankly staring at a blank text document flashing palely on the screen. Fingers tentatively pecking, I'd punched in two stanzas of a poem that I already hated.

 

It was corny. Like a cheesy, dime-a-dozen Hallmark card. It positively oozed amateur writer.

 

Moody, sullen in my lack of success to have the perfect words snap electricity from my brain to fingertips, I nearly hit the power button to black out my inability to write.

 

No.

Only a day ago I'd said, if you want to be a writer you must write.

 

Okay, prove it. Walk the talk. Write.

I drew a line under those two saccharine stanzas and started again.

write! Please, words, please!

Let me write you!

write! Pencil, do my bidding

I can't fight you.

Write! I can't stand the silence of wordlessness,

wasted on air-conditioned eight-hour days.

I can't stand the silence in my head, restlessness

the laziness that plagues me, endless delays.

Write! I can, I may, I must!

I can't stand this waiting,

this gathering dust.

Write! Fingers, obey!

Move like you used to

fill pages and pages

slashes of ink

that clear my head

to let me think.

Write!

Write!

I can, I know I can.

I may, find the way.

I must, this I trust.

Write!

Write!

Frustration confuses the electricity

between brain and fingers

they falter, they fail, they slow

the thought stays and lingers.

Anger mars the flow of pure creation

scarring each sentence with bitterness

each paragraph crippled with stumbles

each word burned in a mental furnace

Loneliness clutters thoughts with vacancy

paradox and contradictions everywhere

denial blurs borders until I can't tell

fiction from a truth hard to bear.

So write!

Write it out and burn it up!

Tear it, scatter the pieces to the wind!

Don't go away, don't give up.

Write!

Write, please write.

Write, just write.

You know it, you're choking on the dust

you scream I can, I might, I must!

I can write storms and life and wars

heal wounds and scars and death

with the tap of fingers shatter doors

 

So write!

Write away the rust!

You think you can,

you know you must.

I'll write myself a pair of wings

and go flying

I'll write myself a shovel

and start trying

to dig the wealth of words

I'll write myself a map

and do it right away

I'll write myself a lamp

so I can see the way

Write

in words are all things

Write

in words are the wings

Write

in words are the things

that make me

Write

Apart from deleting a couple extra stanzas and lines where I continued to ferociously and persistently order myself to pick up the pen, this is the original. I'm not proud of it and there is no use for it...

Oh yeah, there was. It got me writing. Even if it was just ridiculous word and cadence games, I was writing. I firmly believe that to be a good writer you must write – the good, the bad, the unquestionably terrible – but most of all, the truth. Call it whatever you want, allowing some of the words to run out clears my mind.

I didn't close the computer then.

I started a new text document and wrote a poem that was next to halfway decent. Today, I will write another one, and keep writing until I can write... for writing truly does make me right.

to be a writer

by Anna Maria Hansen


On June 23rd, Third Story Writers Guild were visited by New York Times bestselling author Michael Perry. In addition to a public presentation, Perry took time to share insights into his personal writing journey.

There was a lot that resonated during his discussion. As writers, we've heard a lot of the theories before. Write what you know. Find a place you're comfortable with. Look for inspiration. Et cetera. The list goes on into infinity and then just a couple feet beyond.

This was a chance for us to talk to someone who was where we're headed. Michael Perry makes his living off his writing, churning out enough words to support a family and keep the necessary amount of sanity at the same time.

His writing? Everything from full-length novels, to a freelance writing guide, to magazine articles, to truck advertisements. He calls it, “Feeding a habit.” For him, writing is what he want to do most, and he is willing to do what it takes to make that his life.

He writes every day (we've all heard that one; how many of us take it to heart is the question). Not a set word or page count. Just sits down every day in whatever spare minute pops up and writes. Whatever. Anything that he can write, he does.

That gave me an idea. If I can write anything, work on anything that involves writing – yes, I can do that. I love words, reading them, picking them apart, translating, and elaborating them. I can do that every day. It's a skill; sharpen it. Leave it sitting around waiting for the muse, and it will be dull when inspiration strikes.

That was another part of Michael Perry's writing structure that stuck with me and made a lot of sense to my rural Wisconsin life. He likens writing to be a dairy farmer. “You can't wait to be inspired to milk the cows.” And the same goes for writing. If you want to make a living at it, you have to write.

Perry treats writing like a job. One he loves, albeit, but a job none-the-less. Writing pays his bills, fills hours of his day and at the same time, fills a strong desire to fill blank pages with black text. And he operates with the same dedication and commitment that many of us work our jobs. Because if we don't, we loose them. And that attitude toward writing – if you want to make it your living – is what's going to make it possible.

Perry was born a farm boy, went to school to become a nurse, worked as an EMT and then dropped it all to fulfill a passion he hadn't realized had existed... writing. All the experiences he had up until that point and all that came after it fuel his writing and keep it alive.

The key thing I took away from talking to him: If you want to be a writer, be one.

Just do it.

The right place at the right time...

By Karen Dums

Call it Divine Intervention.
Call it fate.
Call it perfect alignment of your stars.
Call it pure chance or coincidence.
Sometimes it's all a matter of being in the right place at the right time.

So a guy walks into a bar... Scratch that.

So a guy and his wife walk into a bistro. Their second choice for dinner out. They order drinks and a pizza. The owner, who knows the guy is a poet, says he'll give him the pizza for free if he stands up and recites one of his poems. This guy has a great voice, both in his writing and in his presentation. Free pizza? Why not. He stands and recites "The Catchall", one of his many poems about fishing.

Two guys are sitting at the bar. Two guys who happen to publish a little paper downstate. A little paper that also has an online presence. When they hear the poem they are impressed (as well they should have been) and ask the guy for some information. Request his poetry. A chance for publication. Boggles the mind, doesn't it?

Did the owner know the two men were in the publishing biz when he asked the guy to recite his poem?

Doesn't really matter, does it? All the pieces were perfectly in place for an opportunity. An opportunity Scott Schmidt, who happens to be "the guy", and who happens to be an active member of Third Story Writer's Guild, took. He took it, he ran with it. Where will it lead? We don't know, but it was an open door. Scott took a chance and stepped through it.

What if he and his wife had gone to the other restaurant they were considering?

What if CCC owner Greg Broome hadn't asked him to recite a poem?

What if he'd been too shy to do it?

[See above]

What if we have opportunity staring us in the face and either don't recognize it, or won't take note of it because of fear or some other "holding us back" emotion?

Not all of us write with an eye to publication. We're content to hide our light under the proverbial bushel. And that's more than okay. But those who want it. Truly want it, must set aside fear, shyness, anything that holds them back and go for it. When opportunity knocks they must open the door and walk  bold through.

Nothing ventured, nothing gained may be a cliche', but it's a true one.

Way to go Scott. Good luck with this. May it bring you great success.

I for one would love to say "I knew him when..."

When change is in the wind...

By Karen Dums

We go through so many phases in our writing life. I chanced upon some poetry I'd scrawled on a  piece of scratch paper, unfortunately it was undated. Some of it was quite beautiful. The reader could tell I was writing of something that touched me deep. These days, weeks, months, perhaps years later I no longer recall what that something was. Puzzled, I pondered it  and came upon one of those starkly honest moments where I got it. It doesn't matter who or what I was writing of at the time. If the words are good, if the meaning is fundamental, it's writing of worth. Time doesn't matter. It will stand that test.

Oh dear. That sounds like braggadocio doesn't it? It's not. I don't value my overall worth as a writer that much. But occasionally I come up with something I like. Being my own worst (and harshest) critic that is an amazing thing! Please let me have this little moment of "hey, that poem was good".

The place I'm residing as an author now is much different than those older words would indicate. I've got a completed novel under my belt at last (something I never dreamed I'd have). I've begun the querying process (something I never dreamed I'd do). I've an eye to a new endeavor in the young adult genre (something I never dreamed I try). It's scary. Yet as writers we must embrace some change if it means we're growing, enhancing our craft. Besides the muse is as changeable as the wind...and sometimes about as friendly. It can push towards places we really didn't intend to go.

Once upon a  time I would have worried over writing something so different than my usual.

Once upon a time I would have fretted about a professional editor or acquisitions agent reading over my work.

Once upon a time I would have talked myself out of completing any serious long form work in the first place!

Once upon a time is a great opening for fairytales...

Don't get me wrong. Our old stories are wonderful. A soft blanket we can snuggle in to when we're tired, alone, discouraged. They are the building blocks that form us. But if we wish to grow we must add to them. Sometimes that means letting the capricious winds take us where they will.

Have you ever stood facing a gale? It's exhilarating. Makes one feel alive. I'm hoping this new direction my personal wind is blowing will take me to good places never dreamed of.  Maybe I'll meet you on the breeze...

a tangled web

by Karen Dums


At times the muse can work against us. Our minds are so full of ideas they become fishing line full of knots. If you've ever tried to untangle fish line you'll know its a near impossibility.

Journaling helps me with this. I can blather on in my journal without rhyme nor reason since no one is going to see it but me. But even that can get to feeling "old". Something that makes at least a modicum of sense would be wonderful.

Enter the prompt. I often throw out prompts at writer's group. But when my head is a tangled mess how am I  to come up with a decent one? What do I have to offer myself or anyone else until the web inside my head becomes a nice, smooth, straight line of coherent thought?

Shopping. Book Shop shopping.

The local bookstore shelves held this beautiful little tome. All browns and golds and lovely to look at. Much more importantly was what lay within. Ideas. It was a five year journal with ideas for each and every day. A journal that gives a sense of direction instead of just a blank page. Of course it found its way into my shopping bag. I love it. I love that if my untidy, clutter mind is more or less empty I can open it to the date and fine something sublime or something ridiculous. Not only that, but if I'm true to this little treasure, I'll have years of joy and directed writing to compare one to another.

Bliss.

Sigh.

It may be difficult to untangle the web, but I can still write with clarity in the meantime.

I love a good "book."

the friction of silence

by Anna Maria Hansen

 

 

~ ~ ~

I cannot write

words dried up, blood from a wound

fire quenched, only smoke left, wreathing

each thought silent prisoner, dragooned

Sitting silent

waiting for their return, birds frightened from the nest

Ears straining, the friction of silence audible

no sound of my words returning, no peace and no rest

I am speechless

fingers hovering, hoping to capture phrases

Like stealth, like hunter, watching for some sign

seeking words through the mindless mazes

I cannot write

creativity sapped, draining, dripping, drying

As a tree in winter, leafless, dead at first glance,

spring must come, melting words, I cannot stop trying

~ ~ ~

 

 



Part of being a writer is knowing that stretches will come, sometimes only a few hours, sometimes days, when words will not come.

Just empty pages, the cursor blinking palely on the screen.

The trick for me has always been sidestepping the writer's block, going around it, instead of trying to battle a straight-forward way over the top. I wrote the above poem on a night when I sat down at the computer determined to write for 20 minutes. I couldn't come up with a single useful line for my book, so I opened a new word document and typed the gospel truth, "I cannot write." And then proceeded to do just that.

Learning to understand (and accept) the silence of thought is a work in progress. I've often found that when I cannot work on a set project... doing something else is usually the key. Change the pace, the rhythm, the tone. When writing is impossible, read over what you've already written. Sooner or later, a sentence will stand out at you and resisting the need to tamper with it will be impossible. You'll be writing, even if it's only a few words.

Writer's block, I'm told, is all in our minds. Truly then, the antidote to it must be there as well.

"...I cannot stop trying..."

the writing game

by Anna Maria Hansen

There it was again. That fleeting, fragmented idea skipping sideways through my mind. With a growl of impatience, I half-turn, blocking my mental view of the partially formed idea. 

Not so fast.

The idea is back, this time holding a sibling idea by the hand. It's impossible not to watch them. They're multiplying, their shapes changing, flashing, filling in and fading out. Kaleidoscopes of possibility.

To a writer, this is a familiar situation. Ideas come all the time, and usually when you least want them or are not prepared to handle them. The only way for me to control the river of ideas is to put them down on paper. Which ultimately results in four full-fledged first-draft novels, a 30-plus page document of novel ideas, a computer file of  fragmented stories, a desk so full I can't open the drawers, and a mind bursting from new, unrecorded thoughts.

Channeling my creative writing ideas has always been a work in process. One way to manage it is NaNoWriMo, a flash-flood of writing so fast and forceful that the ideas don't have time to build and gather dust in the corners of my mind. It's the other 11 months, November aside, that bother me.

Editing novels is a process I enjoy, but it's very different than writing. You are re-shaping ideas, adding new ones, but there is little room for the raw creation experienced in the first draft. But I'm still getting ideas for new stories, temptations to waver and go off on some new project.

What I'm really learning is how to use the ideas I have on the book I'm working on. Every idea gets shaped, honed, to fit into the story, strengthening it, deepening it. Adding to it.

Writing is a game. Like chess. Thinking several moves ahead, planning the next attack, the next move that will leave your reader's mental gears turning. You can't let a single move go by. Every turn has to count.

There's only one rule in the writing game.

 

Finish.

Attention please... what happens when the writing is done

This is a first for me. Querying. This is what authors do when they want to submit their work to an agent or a publisher. Sound simple? It's not.

First one must draft a query letter. This should include a concise overview of your work (if your work is fiction, for non-fiction a proposal is accepted) that is short and sweet. Much like a movie trailer. Your novel may be 65,000 words but what it really says needs to be condensed in a paragraph, two at most, that will hook the interest and attention of the recipient. Wow.

About the recipient. If you've done your research he/she or it (publishing house, not creature from another planet) belongs to AAR, Association of Author Representatives. If they do they have been vetted, they are legitimate, they are not shysters who ask you to pay them money, steal your work, then make a mint signing a big fat book contract for your hard work! This research can be done online by going to the official AAR website, or by the old fashioned way -- through books such as Writer's Marketplace. You'll want to research several of those hes, shes or its since unless you've written the next Pulitzer Prize winner, your work is going to be sent off to more than one. Here's where technology comes in handy. Less and less folks require hard copy, so you won't be paying a fortune in postage sending out packets of printed material. In most cases, but not all (another area in which to pay strict attention) email will do.

Back to the query letter. Pay attention to what the recipient is looking for. Don't pitch your children's book to a publishing house that looks for poetry and poetry only. Don't pitch your non-fiction piece to an agent who only handles Young Adult fiction. If you've written a straight romance don't pitch to erotica. And for goodness sakes if you've written erotica don't pitch to Christian Lit. Please. You're wasting your time and theirs. Simply put, know what genre, or sub-genre your work fits in, lay a good foundation by investigating who or where your work will ultimately land, then add those bits of personal information to the query. Definitely include your body of work, any awards you've received, past publication, if any, and writers groups, associations, etc. you belong to. Be honest. Then polish it, polish it, polish it and send it off with a measure of cautious optimism.

What next? We wait.

I've known some authors who've received requests for a full manuscript within a couple weeks. Others who receive a polite "no thank you" with personal notes. And then there is the dreaded standard rejection which gives you no clue as to why your work is not wanted, leaving you to draw your own conclusion. One that may not be pretty. Or necessarily true.

I have the utmost respect for writers who have submitted work, received a rejection, and keep plugging away until they find someone who wants their book. It may take years. Did you know that Stephanie Meyer, who penned the Twilight series that spun off into merchandise and movies, was rejected 11 times before she found a publisher willing to take her on? Perseverance pays.

While I await responses, if any, to my queries I've got several ideas floating in my head, on paper and on my computer and flash drive (back up is important). Waiting.

Hopefully I've paid close enough attention and my research will pay off. Wish me luck, huh?

The reader is the thing

By Karen Dums

At a recent meeting Guild member Linda brought her friend Cathy as a guest and possible new member, though Cathy avows she is not a writer. (We'll have to take her word until she decides to share with us otherwise). An avid reader, Cathy listened with interest as Guild member Allie shared some of her novel-in-progress. Not only did she listen, she shared her insights.

In after-meeting conversation Cathy claimed she'd brought nothing to the table. Seriously?

As writers we often get caught up in our own heads. The story is so familiar to us; we tell it as we want it to be told. That can be wonderful of course, but one thing we might forget as writer's is who we're writing for. (And here's a clue: it's not the person holding the pen or with his/her fingers poised above the keyboard). It's the reader of course. We are taking them on a voyage of discovery. A voyage that we should be sharing with them. If we take them to the mountain top too quickly they're liable to become oxygen starved and give up the climb. If we take them to the ocean depths too soon they're liable to get the "bends" and that's never good. A boring book is less deadly than a pulmonary embolism, but do you understand my point? We may have our story, total and complete, however rough and as yet unedited, in our heads. But we must remember to "make" those discoveries along with our audience -- not too much so that our work is utterly predictable; not so little that it cannot hold anyone's interest unless they have the attention span of a gnat.

This is a fine and sometimes difficult balance keep. As writers we must, at all times, keep our audience first and foremost in mind.

All authors are writing for someone. That is why in writer's groups readers are such a valuable asset. With diverse backgrounds, tastes, gifts, interests we can give a relatively well-rounded critique of any written work. Are any of us experts? Not really. But we know what we like. Are all that sea of as yet faceless readers out there in book buying land experts? No as well. But they too know what they like.

I once read an article concerning a writer who created her own "reader". She gave her ideal reader a name, an occupation, a family, a hometown, a house, likes and dislikes. Our group used this as a writing exercise. We created our own ideal reader. It might sound like a no-brainer. If my target audience is high school age boys I'm probably not going to hook them with the marital problems of a middle-aged couple. But if my target is a 52 year old woman named Edna, who lives in a small farming community in rural Indiana, has children now grown and gone and a workaholic husband named Clyde, that book about the marital problems of a middle-aged couple might just be it. Keep an eye on that target. Remember who you're writing for. Imagine Edna or Joe or Brittany or Jordan intently turning the pages of your book, smiling all the while.

And if someone is reading your work prior to submission give them a big thank you. Bottom line. The reader IS the thing.





  

limping toward writing

guest post by Jerry Apps 


My writing career was greatly influenced by what happened in 1947. In January of that year, I came down with polio and was confined to bed for several weeks, out of school, and not able to walk. I was in eighth grade, attending a one-room country school.

That fall, able to walk but not run, I entered Wild Rose High School. I discovered I could not participate in any sports because of a bum leg, and was encouraged to take a typewriting class with a room full of girls (a rather enjoyable experience as it turned out). I became a reporter for the Rosebud, our school newspaper, and then editor. I wrote many of the articles, all of the editorials, and “borrowed” heavily from Reader’s Digest, Farm Journal, Wisconsin Agriculturist and other sources. I had not yet learned about plagiarism.

In 1966, after college, the army, marriage and the beginning of a full-time teaching job. I began freelancing a weekly column called “Outdoor Notebook” for several central Wisconsin newspapers. This was the first time I was paid for my writing, earning a hefty $5.00 for each column. I did this for ten years, not missing a week. I called these years of column writing my writing apprenticeship. Everything I wrote was published—the good, the bad, and the ugly.

My first book, The Land Still Lives, was published in 1970, which was the beginning of my book writing career. Several nonfiction books followed. I also had long wanted to write novels. After many rejections, false starts and abandoned projects, my first novel, The Travels of Increase Joseph came out in 2003. Since then I have written five additional novels—the most recent to be published in fall, 2014.

In 2012, Wisconsin Public TV contacted me about doing a documentary based on several of my books about early farm life in Wisconsin. The hour-long show (A Farm Story) came out in 2012, and was aired on some 65 public television stations in 49 states. WPT did a second hour-long documentary with me, (A Farm Winter), in 2012, which aired in 2013. This documentary is based on my book The Quiet Season, Wisconsin Historical Society Press, 2013.

After many years of not wanting people to know about my bout with polio and how it was the main reason I am writing today, I was convinced to write about the experience. Limping Through Life, (2013, Wisconsin Historical Society Press) is about my polio experience and how my writing career evolved over the years because of it.

After nearly fifty years as a professional writer (meaning it earns me a little money), I still try to write six days a week. And after all of these years, I am still learning how to do it.


***

Visit Jerry Apps at his blog and learn more about him on his website.

the winter of my discontent

by Karen Dums

Wisconsin may be called  God's Country by some, but the landscape, especially in the northern parts, is not for the meek. I've lived here all my life. I've ridden the rollercoaster that weather brings and for the most part "weathered" it without major difficulty.

The winter of 2013/2014 is different.

It began with an inate sadness. I hesitate to call it depression -- far too clinical for my present state. There is a restlessness residing in my soul. There is a need I cannot define. Ephemeral. Veiled. Half-formed nebulous thought that needs putting to paper (or computer screen) yet I have no will. Has this long cold winter sapped me? What shall I do? After all it may be months until spring.

Am I not a writer? Am I not capable of creating a world beyond this sub-zero ice-clad snow-to-my-hips place? Of course I am. I can write sun and sandy beach and ocean waves pounding; I can write of music, how it takes me to a different time, a different place. A place where I am free! Unencumbered by mittens, hats, boots and long underwear.

When I arrive at any of those places I realize I am overthinking. I can surely find simple beauty in the arc of draped snow, defying gravity. Or the striated layers, another thing of beauty, those white mounds on deck, roof, trees. Or the glistening trees. Or a pillar of woodsmoke rising to the sky.

Hmmmm.  This long cold winter seems to be sending me off on a voyage of self-discovery. Not what I can endure, or even my limitations, but how I can stretch myself to reach those very limits and persevere. Find words, blessed words, no matter how well they attempt to stay hidden.

Here's a truth: so much of writing for me is emotion. It spills on the page as happiness, love, rage, that dark side of my psyche that oft needs to escape its bonds. I can find words for that. Easily. No matter what the weather I will find words to bend to my will. I suddenly realize they have not been hiding from me, it is I who have been hiding from them. Even in my discontent I can put pen to paper and create!

A bit of advice: Don't suppress your sense of self when you are writing. There is no need, no matter the topic. To write does not always mean to share. Sometimes we write simply selfishly -- therapeutically so to speak -- to maneuver ourselves past a bad patch, to revel in a good happenstance, to sing without music and to dance without fear. I'll be dancing as fast as I can until spring arrives. And writing all the while.


 

the craft of daydreaming

by Anna Maria Hansen


We've all been there.

That moment, that day, that week where writing seemed out of the question. Where taking the time to sit down and actually make the creative part of your brain actually work was simply laughable.

I sat down at the computer, clicked open the document and stared blankly at the words until they blurred. Quite some time later, I realized that I had sat there for close to half an hour and done nothing.

Wait.

I'd been daydreaming. Thinking. Not about writing, true, but I'm not writing a book about how to write a book. I'm writing about other people and their lives and their thoughts... and yes! I had an idea.

Getting over these blank stretches is a trick. Not always easy to force creativity (if possible at all). There is inspiration in everything and sometimes daydreaming is the best way to let your mind go.

A friend told me a quote from Agatha Christie: "The best time for planning a book is while you're doing the dishes."  

Allow time to think, to let your mind play with characters, dialogue, scenes. I often let thoughts roll around in my head for days, sometimes weeks, before putting them down in print. By the time I take up a pen, I have a firm grasp on what I am trying to say. Other times, I let myself sit down at the computer and write whatever pops into my head. True, a lot of it is plain mumbo-gumbo, but there is sometimes a sliver, a fragment that can be pulled out and expanded on.

One thing to always remember when you reach a stretch in your story when you can't move forward... if the scene is boring you as the writer, the reader will have already set down the book. Don't write anything that bores you.

poetry and publication thereof

by Anna Maria Hansen


Poetry. It's supposed to be all about thoughts... concepts... imagery... brevity... right? People (who are not poets) imagine poets as being these long-haired, dreamy individuals who sit with a quill pen held between graceful fingertips, waiting... just peacefully waiting... for that beautiful thought that will be written down to stay in every human being's heart for eternity.

Umm.... I have news. Even if poets did idly catch poems like children net butterflies... there's another aspect to poetry writing.

Publishing.

Enough to scare anyone -- even a hard-core novelist, much less us fragile poets. The work and time that can go into publishing one poem is roughly ten times what it took to write the original poem. Cover letters, magazines, journals, chapbooks, e-magazines, editors, SASE, paid by the word, paid by the line, paid by the poem, not paid at all... it's a litany of unknown designed especially to strike fear into the heart of the would-be-published-poet.

However! Quell the beating heart, the knocking knees, the shortness of breath. There is hope. To be found in the pages of the Writer's Digest Poet's Market -- a handy guide for poets looking for publication. Published every year, with excellently organized lists of publications that accept poetry, this book is a must-have for those who fear the rocky path of publication. It includes names of publications, contact information, what the publication is looking for, how they want submissions to appear, what they pay, who they've published, what kind of poetry they want.

With a pen and paper, anyone can quickly read through and jot down names of publications that mutually suit poet and publication. A few more minutes of online research of the websites provided will get you each publications submission guidelines. In the front of Poet's Market is a section that shows poets how to write a cover letter and format their poems -- slide it into an envelope with a SASE (self address stamped envelope), address... and you've sent off your first poetry submission. Bravo!

Well, what are you waiting for? Get going!

four things a good query does

guest post by Kourtney Heintz


1) The Opening Paragraph Anchors And Introduces
This is where you tell the agent what you have and why it’s right for them. You lay out the title of your book, the genre, the word count, and why you think this specific agent would be interested in your book. Make sure you personalize it. Do some research on the agent and mention how you read on their blog or in an article in Writer’s Digest how they like x or represent y author and you think they would like your book because it has x or something like x or is similar to y author in q respect.


2) The Summary Explains The Main Plot Arc

You’re book is amazing. It’s got so many layers and themes. You are sure if you just convey all of this to an agent, they will love your book as much as you do.

But if you try to cram in every detail of what makes your book unique and interesting, including all those secondary characters and cool subplots, the agent won’t know what your book is about. And the whole point of the summary paragraph is to answer that one question--what is this book about?

Strip away the subplots. Forget about themes. Figure out who your main character is. Concentrate on what your main plot arc is for that character--what is the hook of your book? Write a one sentence summary. And then build that into a paragraph or two. 


3) The Summary Is Gripping And Intriguing Without Sacrificing Clarity

Once you’ve got that summary paragraph drafted, now it’s time to make it zing. Use action verbs. Strong nouns. Infuse the voice of your novel into that summary. Make sure it captures not just the plot but the heart of your story.

You’ve got to make it read like the back cover of a book. Reveal enough to make it clear what the plot is and what is at stake for your character, but keep it tantalizing and end with a cliffhanger. Get them wanting to read your pages to find out what happens.


4) Closing Paragraph Provides Credentials

This is the bio that is relevant to your writing this book. What makes you the person to tell this story? What are your credentials for writing? Do you have a degree in English? Do you belong to national writing organizations? Have you had anything published? Did you win any major writing contests? Is your book about ADHD and you’ve raised a child with ADHD? Here’s the place to let the agent know you are serious about your writing career and/or you have unique knowledge of your subject matter.



Author Bio: 



       Kourtney Heintz resides in Connecticut with her warrior lapdog, Emerson, her supportive parents and three quirky golden retrievers. She dreams of one day owning a log cabin on Butternut Lake. Years of working on Wall Street provided the perfect backdrop for her imagination to run amuck at night, imagining a world where out-of-control telepathy and buried secrets collide.

       Her debut novel, The Six Train to Wisconsin, is a 2014 EPIC Ebook Awards Finalist, a 2013 USA Best Book Awards Finalist and a 2012 Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award Semifinalist.





One Sentence Summary of The Six Train to Wisconsin:



        When Kai’s telepathy spirals out of control, her husband Oliver brings her to the quiet Wisconsin hometown he abandoned a decade ago, where he must confront the secrets of his past to save their future.





Where to Buy:
         Signed paperbacks are for sale at the Novel Idea Book Shop in Park Falls, WI and the Butternut Area Historical Society Museum in Butternut, WI.
        You can also purchase ebooks and paperbacks at Amazon, B&N, iTunes.